Days She Cleans
by s.grand
Summary: Oneshot: Draco Malfoy loved the days Hermione Granger cleaned their house.


Draco loved the days when Hermione cleaned the house.

She was happy when she cleaned. She did it in the muggle fashion, putting her wand away somewhere. Her mind wandered off the things that stressed her the most – her job, her friends, her demanding schedule – and instead turned to the house. Draco always offered to help her. She always turned him down.

He loved seeing her face shine with an energy she used to have, and didn't quite die out yet. They were both busy, but the days she cleaned meant that things were ok, that she still had time for everything else.

Hermione almost always sang while she cleaned. Sang old songs, new songs, songs she liked. Songs she didn't like too, but sang them out loud anyway because they were his favorites and she knew he was watching and listening. And she was happy when she sang, she laughed when she sang, and he loved hearing it.

Sometimes Draco would try to sing along. Then she would yell at him to shut up, making him chuckle, while she continued to sing and clean, dusting the corners, washing the dishes.

Involuntarily, he followed her around. When she was in the living room, he stayed there, making excuses, for both her and for him, on why he was there. I've lost my glasses, Draco would say. You don't have any, Hermione would tell him. But he would search anyway, and she would continue cleaning, knowing that he was watching her from the corner of his eye, but cleaning anyway, singing the whole time.

When she went into the kitchen, he suddenly became hungry, and followed her in there. He'd make something simple, almost always a sandwich, and she would complain that he was giving her more dishes to wash. Then she continued whatever she was doing; clearing out the refrigerator, putting the dried dishes into the cabinets. He'd lean against a counter and watch her while he ate, and every now and then she'd stop and come over to take a bite.

Sometimes he played around with her, holding the sandwich out of her reach, making her glare at him. Sometimes she tickled him in order to make him bring the sandwich down. On her really good days, Hermione would forget about the sandwich and tickling and simply put her arms around his neck and kiss him, pouring herself into it, losing herself in it. And then, right before she pulled away, when his guard was down, she'd snatch the sandwich and laugh gleefully.

Neither of them was ever really hungry; it was just their excuse, their routine, something they were used to by now.

Some days Draco loved to just watch her. She would talk to him on those days. She talked about everything, even when he didn't answer back because he was busy just watching her. She would tell him about something she discovered in herself. She would tell him something she found out about him, new or old. She would tell him about the new things she experienced, be it reading a new book, watching a new movie, or just experiencing something about life in general.

When she ran out of things to say for one day, Hermione sang again. She sang love songs the days he just watched, and on the parts she really liked, she'd look straight at him and sing it to him. She made up words for the parts she didn't know, in a way that would make him suddenly realize she was singing about purple cows and pink elephants and flying dogs. And then he would laugh.

Some days she would give reasons for him to follow her. I found your glasses, she would shout from their bedroom. I don't have any, he'd shout back, but head to their room anyway. Because Draco wanted that, he wanted an excuse, and those days that she willingly gave him one, he followed no matter what it was. Then he would watch her from their doorway, until she smiled at him and his thoughts revolved on nothing but her and his heart was too large for his chest and he went in the room, lifted her in his arms, and carried her to their newly-made bed.

Sometimes Hermione would squirm and complain lightheartedly, but then he would stop her by tickling her until she was weak from laughing and she'd be begging him to stop. Other days she simply sank into the bed and he would brush her hair from her face and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

Some days he fell asleep just holding her there. On those days, he would still dream about her, singing songs about purple cows and shouting playfully at him when he tried to sing along.

Draco loved the days when Hermione cleaned the house.

**_A/N:_** A friend of mine asked me to write a story using the words cleaning, cow, glasses, and purple. This is what came out of it, and personally, I'm really pleased. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it (if you did, you're one lucky critter). ;)


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